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by thislittleheartofmine



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst??, M/M, also there's no names so it might get confusing adkfjds, ex-boyfriends xiuhan, might be ugly idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 12:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thislittleheartofmine/pseuds/thislittleheartofmine
Summary: it seems six years and god-knows whatever distance isn’t enough to heal a broken heart.





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**Author's Note:**

> uhhh i haven't written anything in three years and this is my first time writing for a non-tv ship so if it's ugly i'm sorry sjakfdks (also thank you rin for sending me this prompt uwu)

_Ping._

The sound distracts him from the draft he was typing and he stops to look at his phone. It doesn’t ring any further so he decides to ignore it as it was two in the morning and nobody important would probably message him at that time.

_Ping._

_Ping._

_Ping._  

_Ping._

The four rings are enough to pull him away from his work this time and he begrudgingly goes to his bed where his phone was charging and unlocks his phone.

-

He bites his fingernail while his other thumb hovers over the follow button for what feel like hours already. He knows better than to go and snoop through his account but curiosity is a powerful thing and it isn’t long before he’s scrolled though all three hundred and twenty six pictures four times. He doesn’t even remember anymore how he ended up on his account.

Well, actually, he does. But it’s not like it was on purpose.

Why should he even follow him? It’s been years and he doubts he even wants to talk to him. Even though they promised to stay friends – or civil, at least, for the sake of their circle of friends – it wasn’t long before they eventually stopped talking then stopped going to the same events to avoid bumping into each other. Too awkward. Their friends, knowing how stubborn the two can be, chose not to say anything and just went with things. They would joke about it but he knew it stressed them out, having to always adjust everything just so they won’t have to see each other.

So he decided moving away was the best option.

He didn’t really mean to cut off all contact with everyone but things got so busy and he was trying to move on, too, so he never found the time to reach out. The calls and the texts gradually decreased and one day just stopped coming.

-

_luhan wants to send you a message._

He’s been staring at the notification for what feels like minutes. Maybe his heart’s pounding a little, too. No, not from excitement but from dread. He’s not exactly sure if he wants to open whatever it is he sent, especially seeing that it’s four messages long. Then he realizes he doesn’t know why he messaged him out of the blue considering it’s been almost six years since they last spoke.

_this isn’t working out anymore_

He feels a headache coming so he decides to ignore the message and put away his phone.

-

He checks his phone then puts it down again.

It’s almost three in the morning and he’s most likely sleeping but that’s not going to stop him from checking every five seconds if he’s replied. He’s chewing on his fingernail again and it reminds him of how he would always pull away his hand whenever he catches him doing it. A small smile forms at the memory and it doesn’t take long for him to start reminiscing.

It seems six years and one thousand three hundred nineteen miles don’t make much of a difference.

-

It's been half an hour and the blinking cursor stares at him as if it’s taunting him. He spares a glance at his phone again and groans.

It seems he won’t be finishing his work now.

He stretches then rolls away from his desk and to his phone. Biting his lip, he debates the pros and cons of opening the messages, afraid they’re going to bring up unwarranted feelings he’s tried to stash deep, deep, down in the recesses of his mind.

Sometimes – or maybe a lot of times – he thinks he should’ve done what he did, move somewhere far away because trying to forget in a place where every crevice holds a memory is a lot more difficult than he thought. His friends and the mundane of everyday were – and are – enough distractions whenever his thoughts start straying.

But every once in a while he’d sit alone in the café and he’d see a couple and be reminded of good times.

_Ping._

He snaps out of his reverie at the sound. He grabs his phone and swipes at the reminder to finish his draft by 4 am.

_luhan wants to send you a message._

His finger hovers over the notification for a few seconds and he presses it before he can psych himself out of it.

-

It almost seems a lost cause.

He’s starting to feel pathetic how he can’t sleep and how his heart’s racing a little bit in apprehension waiting for something that might never come.

He knows he’s angry. Maybe now he’s indifferent, but he knows he’d never let up a chance to be petty and voice out his disappointment. He’d act like it’s all a joke but deep down it’s because he’s a little bit hurt. For him to completely ignore him doesn’t make sense to him.

And, maybe a part of him is a little hurt.

Granted, it was his fault and he probably shouldn’t be feeling that way but he’d like to think that even with the years and distance, he still knows him.

-

_Hey. You don’t have to reply to this. I know it’s been years but I hope you’re doing well._

Nineteen words.

Nineteen words in four messages and it feels like his world’s turned upside down.

He isn’t sure what exactly he was expecting the messages to contain. The turmoil brewing inside his head (and heart) makes it hard to place what emotion he’s feeling as well. He starts typing a reply then deletes it. He tries another reply only to delete it again.

His frustration overcomes him and he throws his phone on his bed. He starts pacing his room, debating on what he should reply, should he even reply at all. Soon enough, anger is the feeling that comes on top.

It seems six years and god-knows whatever distance isn’t enough to heal a broken heart.

-

He put on a movie an hour ago, to lull himself to sleep or keep him awake he isn’t sure anymore. A small gap in the curtain shows the sky getting lighter, signaling the blue hour. He’s long stopped looking at his phone, assuming that there’s probably no reason for him to be awake at an ungodly hour.

And if he was, he’s willing to wait however long for him to reply.

He hugs his blanket tighter and tries to pay attention to the movie. Minutes pass by and he feels his eyelids getting heavy. As the end credits start rolling, he turns to switch off his lamp.

_Ping._


End file.
